Scarves
by Laiika
Summary: It all changed when Malfoy gave Harry his scarf. Now his whole perception is changing and he's questioning thing's he'd rather leave alone. And in the background, Umbridge waits. Slash HP/DM COMPLETE
1. A Scarf

I do not own anything except the storyplot since it's my idea! :D

This is a 'slash' meaning the two get together, so, Yay! I still think it would have been amazing had they in the books... But for that reason FF is born!

Please read and review. Thanks!

**Scarves (part one)**

Frozen on his log perch beside a dark stone cave, slight coverings of moss littered the outside area with stubborn piles of snow resting in little nooks all around the stone and between grass. He was just outside the small town of Hogsmeade and even as the sky began to darken and the cool winds of mid-November swept through him he took no notice, his mind far elsewhere.

He had met his friends; the ever smart Hermione Granger and (her near opposite) Ron Weasly, at the Three Broomsticks for a round of butter-beers to 'discuss life' as Hermione had put it, like winter plans, crushes and, of course, the other students. Harry never really liked the drinks but every weekend that they came to the tiny hamlet he would have one; they were thick, sweet and smelled funny to him but Ron loved them and even Hermione liked them.

Since Harry hadn't planned on being outside most of the day and having a fight with his best friends, (the first he had made in his new world five years before and two of the few 'true' ones), he had only a light shirt on that was a few sizes too big (his chubby cousin's) and jeans, along with his uniform shoes. Hermione had had the spectacular idea to tell Ron when he was happily drinking and where no one would overhear them at the popular local hangout, that Harry thought he might be gay.

_That _that was the reason behind why he hadn't gone out with Ginny when she'd asked him the week before, and the week before that... Not, as she had put it, because he liked someone else (which was kinda, _sorta, _'half' true.). Neither knew Ron was such a homophobe. Or that he would have reacted by stuttering about all the times they had been close with each other and how Harry was in love with him. _Really_.

Harry shook his head and thought of Sirius. His _Dog_father had been the first, no second, to guess Hermione had thought it aloud to Harry when they were talking over the summer at the Headquarters, while Sirius was walking by. The scruffy man had came in exclaiming he knew it and wrapping his still-skeletal arms around Hermione and Harry before the flushed Chosen-Boy could even start to stutter his own thoughts. Harry had a few fleeting thought about guys and he confessed that he thought he might be gay before, he was reminded of the only girl he had ever had a crush on which had been Cho Chang, and that had just been a very confusing one albeit brief.

The cool air around him hadn't yet fazed Harry is his dazed state, he hadn't noticed at all that he was losing feeling in his nose, fingertips and toes. His skin losing its golden hue slowly, all he could focus on were feeling reminiscent of the dementors of the summer in the alley. He had his sweater from Molly Weasly on his lap which, unfortunately enough, had a few marks and tears from Ron earlier in the year when they were having a 'snow-war' with the girls, the thoughts continued on wondering if Ron would ever even talk to him again let alone rough-house like that... Plus it was slightly damp from spewed butter-beer.

He was thinking of Sirius on the run, Hermione trying to convince Ron that Harry would not suddenly want to shag him everywhere and that no he didn't like Ron that way either (ew, too much red). He was thinking of the pains he had been having in his scar and the doubts he was having on telling Ron what he thought. He wasn't even sure!

He put his hands in his lap, blankly wondering if Hermione had calmed Ron down, or if they thought he had went back to school yet, or if they were even thinking of him.

* * *

Draco was pleasantly warm in the chilly air, although angry at his 'friends' for insinuating, again, that he _like-liked_ the boy he had been teasing, fighting, attacking and pretty much obsessing about for ever since the boy rejected his hand. Five _years_! It had made him mad enough he had actually walked alone and found himself where? Paces away from his 'crush'. The raven headed Boy Wonder was lost in space looking like his best friend had told him that he hated him and then kicked his dog and, although Draco didn't know how nearly right he was, he found himself making his way to sit beside the boy; he vaguely considered himself insane, this was the boy who had chosen _Weasly _and a _mudblood _over him! A _Malfoy_! While yes… he had insulted the red head, giant and the muggle born, he hadn't thought it was the equivalent of the insult of not being chosen over the two!

Sitting himself down on the icy log beside Harry, he leaned forward and across the unresponsive boy to see his face, waving his hand before the blank eyes slowly, and repeating "Potter?" slowly he was noticing three immediate things about the raven-haired boy: he was beyond pale (nearly stony, really), the tips of his ears and nose were dark red (likely frostbitten by now), and he had almost frozen tears in his lashes and clinging to his eyes.

Compelled by whatever had come over him to make him sit next to Harry, Draco stood slightly, kneeling (and he would deny it to the grave, no _Malfoy_ would kneel before a _Potter_!) before Harry and untying and removing his dark emerald and silver scarf with the Slytherin insignia and placed it around the boy. Moving a few paces back, just-in-case Potter thought he was choking him or something, Draco nodded and was slightly surprised when the scarf brought the dazed boy back to reality unlike all the other things like words and movements.

Harry stared up at the Slytherin, there was no sneer on his light face, his pale grey-blue eyes, the white-blonde hair screaming soft and the aristocratic features; he was the total opposite of Harry's rough childhood, he was the epitome of pampered, well maybe that was too far, but the surprise had Harry's heart speeding up to a more normal pace than the dormancy of the past few... hours? The low sun told him had been at least four had since leaving the Three Broomsticks. He saw question in Malfoy's eyes, and asked what he was doing here.

"Where's your coat? Scarf? Gloves?" Draco half scoffed ignoring the question, both confused and awed that Harry had neither, after all, wasn't he supposed to be Gryffindor's Golden Boy? Designated to save the wizarding world and all that jazz? Defeated the Dark Lord as an infant? And yet apparently he couldn't even remember his house scarf or gloves when it was the coldest trip yet?

Pale as he was, Harry looked near the same shade as Draco, albeit an unhealthy copy. "I d-don't have a sc-arf, I-I gave it to-" he broke off, Sirius had his scarf and mitts while he was on the run and Harry had been too preoccupied to ask for another set. That and he didn't want anyone to ask where his had gone. He'd just been saying, when asked of course, that he forgot them. His reply had been slightly muffled by the scarf, having been tied loosely around his neck and lower face to hang on his back, and as he made no move to change the position he slightly hoped he wouldn't have to. He was realizing that he had been cold and his voice was quite clear on the cold.

Draco nodded and seemed to easily accept this answer, both knowing what would have been coming from the events of the previous year. And, as he turned away, slightly inclining his head, "Curfew in less than twenty, _Potter_," Draco called as he began to walk away from the secluded cave that used to belong to a certain man.

He didn't speed up as Harry moved to follow after, the soft scarf warm around his neck, he smiled (though hidden by the scarf) and whispered a thank you, it wasn't every day, after all, that your enemy thought about your well being before your _best _friends did.

* * *

Harry made it back to Hogwarts on time, barely, having stopped to warm up for a bit before walking back with the stragglers still in the Three Broomsticks. Harry had entered Hogwarts just as Supper was starting and just made his way into the Great Hall, before taking a seat at the closest end next to an equally oblivious Neville Longbottom. Thinking of what to do after dinner, he pulled the scarf down and away from his mouth absently loosening it, '_the Gryffindor Tower held no appeal' _he mentally checked off as he made his plate up with the usual foods, maybe he would go to the library until it closed closer to the curfew, it would give him at least a couple hours of peace, though it still held only slightly more appeal than the Tower. At least the Tower would be… interesting, for lack of a better word, hostile, maybe, interesting, definitely.

Pulling the scarf looser absently, again, and letting it fall against his neck, he wasn't paying attention as he ate pieces of the supper, not too hungry and still deep in thought, or he might have noticed the few professors and students eating and entering give him strange looks or odd comments, but, he was used to feeling eyes on the back of his head, and hearing whispers about him, after all he hadn't had an iota of privacy since his eleventh birthday, other than when he was at 'home' with the Dursley's. After eating as much as he could stomach, which really wasn't much, he left the hall. Completely oblivious to the still filling room and the quiet that followed his departure.

The Room of Requirements was where he found himself, he had walked past three times unsure of what he wanted and only really thinking of privacy and when the door that showed itself opened to a room near identical to room he had at the Dursley's his only thought was of mixed feelings. It was kind of like the Cupboard, actually, a few obvious differences, of course for one thing, it was at least three times the size, another was that it had a window looking out to the forest, and (the main one), was that it had a large dark green curtain hanging on one wall, and red one covering the opposite wall with a dark navy bed much like that in the dorms. Making his way, slowly, to the bed Harry decided to have a nap, hopefully no one would be awake when he went to the dormitories just before curfew. Yawning, he reached and found a replica of an alarm clock, and, flicking the dial to five minutes before curfew, when he had to be back in the Tower, he let himself sleep with his fingers tangling in the other houses' scarf.

* * *

Harry had made it extrordinairily uneventfully (except for a certain, recurring dream) to morning, coming into the dorm right on time to see a, surprisingly, empty common room before marching up to his bed. He had slept in his clothes and barely made it back up to his Dorm's bed since waking from the hidden room, he had had another strange dream of that odd door and had woken more tired than before.

After a quick shower while most of his dorm mates were still asleep and loudly snoring t proclaim the fact, Harry dressed in his uniformed robes for the day's classes when the other house's coloured scarf laying by the head of his bed caught partway under the pillow and rumpled blankets caught his eye, and (in an act of impulsive, mild defiance that surprised himself) Harry grabbed it and threw it around his neck, the 'offending' scarf lying around his neck, dangling over each shoulder onto his chest. It was longer than his had been, then again, he had had the same one since First year... Grabbing his books and stuffing them back into his bag he quietly left for breakfast.

Being awake early had a few perks, one being the dead quiet halls and the other, more important one, was that nobody was around to ask any questions either. His breakfast was finished long before most of the school had come in, this was excluding nearly all of the Ravenclaw's who came in soon after Harry had and had opened their book to 'read ahead for the day' much like a certain Gryffindor had done the night before and would probably do again when she arrived depending on how 'stupid' Ron was being that morning. This was mainly due to the fact that he had arrived _much_ earlier than normal since he had slept, surprising well and had woken refreshed and much earlier than normal. As the rest of the room quietly filled until the quiet was lost, and as two thrids of the Golden Trio entered, Harry made way past, resulting in his _two _friends (who had gasped, probably at seeing him awake without their help for the first time in a while due to those dreams and generally poor rest), grabbing him in surprise. "_WHAT_ on earth is _that,_ Harry! Around your neck!" Hermione shrieked quiet enough that only two of the three nearly full table turned to see what had happened.

Harry fingered the scarf, looking at the two, Ron decidedly not looking anywhere near Harry, while pointedly still blocking his path and helping the only girl of the tiro, Hermione was holding the other end of the scarf, the side with the wrong house insignia. Harry whispered with a slightly hoarse sound (probably from sitting in the cold yesterday), "I lost my Gryffindor one," into her ear as he leaned closer before his cheeks flushed and he took off at a half run away from his two friends, brushing past a certain boy who was looking at him with a mixture of surprise and something else.

* * *

He could feel prickles of panic going through his head and body: What if Malfoy wanted it back? What if he was supposed to have given it back yesterday? What if Ron never spoke to him again? What if anyone found out he _liked _the scarf? He shuddered and went to wait in the Transfigurations classroom, his mind going a mile a minute, as fast as Krum after the snitch going with the wind. He knew (now) that it was a bad idea. His Gryffindor bravery the only thing keeping him from stuffing it into his bag (plus he didn't think Draco, _MALFOY_, not, _never_, Draco, would appreciate it, and honestly he was still kind of cold…) that and the fact that student were beginning to trickle in, his musing taking up the last few blessedly alone time he had before class.

Of the rapidly piling in students few covered gasps and stared at him again(most had seen over the past two gatherings in the Great hall for meals or heard about it, anyway), this time, though, Harry was definitely noticing, every fibre focused on them, it really wasn't the usual things about him, (Voldemort, gossip or his scar, to name a few), it was about the scarf. Malfoy's scarf. A non-Gryffindor scarf on the 'Golden-Boy'. He didn't think anyone would have noticed, but Ron and Hermione had, and thinking about it, he had never seen anyone from a house wear another houses colours. Ever. _Maybe it was a Taboo_…? (Harry was freaking out enough without that thought, dammit!)

He shook his head and pulled a roll parchment and one of his quills out, he wanted to at least look uninterested in all the commotion. Hermione sat beside him, (with Ron sitting back a few rows with Seamus and Dean while looking at Hermione like a traitor), picking the end up and pulling slightly, he coughed as it tightened, looking around to see no one looking, not even Ron, and when she whispered _Omos Lumos-est_ and small silver writing appeared he checked again, no one was watching- unless that small flip of blonde... Malfoy had been watching. He looked at the appearing letters, catching as they burst forth before immediately fading back to nothing but blank fabric, '_Draco Malfoy'_ and he fought another blush as Hermione slowly looked up at him, smiling knowingly (and in a way… accepting?) and began setting her own parchment and such, content and asking what he thought they would be doing, a new spell or more work on the one from the previous week. He sighed and focused on a mantra, pleading that no one else would know a spell like that, whatever that was, and that maybe no one else would ask about it that the Professor would enter and smile before teaching them an awesome and advanced spell. _Riiight_.

He succeeded in the 'no one else commenting', that is, until the stern Professor Minerva McGonagall came in and gasped and stood there, frozen and with a bewildered expression on her face.

* * *

Revised on Dec. 22. 2010

Hope this clears some things and fixes some of those mistakes! You can thank a few certain reviews for this chapter, I can't believe I spelt Gryffindor wrong and I blame autocorrect on Word.

_-Laiika_


	2. Reactions?

A recap [In an awe-inspiring voice over]:

_-He succeeded in the 'no one else commenting', that is, until the stern Professor Minerva McGonagall came in and gasped and stood there, frozen and with a bewildered expression on her face. -_

* * *

**Scarves (Part two)**

Harry gulped inaudibly, his pale face growing even paler as he focuses on the teacher rather than his friend and the scarf. The elder witch had stood motionless and staring at him for nearly a full minute with the entire class silent; all of the Lions were sitting staring right back while the Snakes, minus two blondes, were copying their nemeses.

"_Mr_… Potter!" The deputy headmistress' voice seemed to shake with surprise and her thin pink lips became a thinner, tiny white line combined with her wide eye's narrowing and sharpening, she reminded Harry of a taffy-pulled Dudley learning of a new diet actually... The witch stiffly moved to the front of the class and away from the left of her desk; her face darkening into a shade not unlike his uncle, which really only made the whole thing seem more surreal than a stunned teacher who really, had most likely heard all about the scarf by now and had probably even seen it at one of the two meals. "Are you _Not_!" she swept her steely gaze about the room, reminding everyone why she was the deputy of the school and not the no-where-near-as-frightening-anymore Snape, "A _Gryffindor_, Mr. Potter." Her words posed no question, only an icy statement.

She stood still as a statue, her hands shaking (in either anger or… well, Harry was positive it was anger), and her eyes swiftly looking at the other students were the only things to provide proof she hadn't been petrified or jinxed. Of the fifth year students only Neville Longbottom had on a scarf (the right one too!).

"Well!" she demanded. Her tone leaving no room or time for a lie, or anything really. Harry gulped and very fish-like, opened his mouth a few times, each time only closing it quickly with a small gasp of air escaping.

"I… I lost mine?" he tried to say, the words exiting at a thin whisper which caused the Lions around him, including Hermione, to wince at the tight sound assumed to be caused by a very sore throat. The whispered words, even in the pin-drop silent class were barely heard by those closest and not at all by their asker.

"_What _did you say, Mr. POTTER?" A collective wince was held throughout the room. Hermione opened her mouth to repeat for the pale boy when the cool eyes snapped to her, "Are YOU trying to tell me something, Ms. Granger!" she hissed. And, in his mind, it was all too much of a reminder of a home that was never really his nor would ever be, of a family (his by name alone), that Harry saw his head of house morph into his uncle as a near double vision, (like when an object is moving slowing and too close to the eye viewing it), he saw the cupboard's looming darkness closing in and saw a large meaty hand coming fast from above.

Outwardly, Harry flinched and hunched over just enough before stopping himself, (as he had always done, been conditioned to, really) this wasn't home, it was school, it was safe. There were no dementors, no basilisk, only Transfiguration. His head-of-house was still continuing; "Lions! They are NOT _snakes_!" and a cooler hand reached for his own as she continued to rant about how her 'House' was being 'turned' and that she had 'lost her best seeker'. "And to _SNAPE_!" The woman continued her shriek, "AND YOU! You TRAITOR to the Gryffindor Name! I cannot BELIEVE this! This!" followed by a few more phases which were already being tuned out.

At this point Harry heard a gasp but really heard nothing at all. A faint buzzing had filled his head mid-rant and it was Hermione who stood up and physically _pulled_ the shocked teen from the class room. Leaving the entire class with a raving teacher, and in another state of shock, Hermione Granger was _skipping a class _and taking her friend with her.

* * *

The entire episode had lasted just a few minutes, from the entrance of their professor to the rant to their leaving, but it was apparently enough time for the smart girl to have a plan already. Harry was shocked and followed behind at the brisk pace Hermione had set as she furiously headed away from the classroom. Both reeling with shock at their 'mentor's' behaviour.

"Harry?" the bushy-haired girl called as the headed onto a staircase as it swung from one corridor to another. When she got no response she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and thought. She had just walked out of a class. She had pulled shell-shocked Saviour with her. She really had no idea what had happened. Harry hadn't answered nor had he moved of his own volition. Sighing Hermione released her lip as they resumed their walk toward the Room of Requirement. At least, if Harry stopped acting like a doll, they could plan more of their 'under-ground defence movement' against the 'teachings' of that horrid toad!

The dark haired boy looked up when, suddenly, he felt his arm falling to his side as his friend dropped it and began to summon their door. Harry blinked slowly, mind awakening enough to watch his pacing friend, one hand on the scarf and the other lifting to wipe his face, feeling drained. He stayed still, allowing Hermione to choose their room today while making an effort not to think of their teacher or of the dementors or of his family. It was harder than it should've been. "Harry?"

"Coming," he whispered and entered with her into a living room, complete with cream coloured chairs and a matching couch, a tele that probably wouldn't work even if there was a plug-in and a neutral colour scheme with pictures on the walls of a countryside. Chuckling at a simple photo of a younger Hermione, Harry assumed she went for the familiar and thought of her own home.

Sitting on the plush couch beside his friend, the two of them were silent in their own thoughts until a couple of sharp coughs erupted in the silence. "You haven't been to Madam Pomfrey, have you? You really shou-"

"Not yet, Mione, I feel fine… felt, this morning anyway. Didn't, er, notice it got worse."

"…After class, then?" she leaned over with an innocent (if worried) smile whilst pulling a book from her over-flowing bag. Both laughing and dispelling the oddness of their day they set to their own, reading their real defence books.

After nearly a half hour of their efforts the silence was broken again, "Why?" The frizzy-haired girl leaned over again, reminding Harry suddenly of that spell, _' Est LumoOmos or something?' , _and of their disastrous first class. Another thought flitted through his mind, _'why was no one else caring about it?'_

Startled killing-curse green eyes lifted to meet a pair of worried honey-brown, "Why?"

"The scarf, it's… Odd, Harry. Really-"

"I didn't think it would be a big deal, 'Mione!" Harry interrupted, his cheeks gaining little colour as they flushed. He knew it was odd, he knew it wasn't done, at least not that he had ever seen. But it couldn't be. He glanced down at the green and silver strips, the small crest with the snake weaving, it brought his mind back to the sorting hat, back to his choice of house.

"_Hogwarts: A History _says-!"

"_Hermione_!" Harry hissed, the hoarse sound echoing slightly in the room, he wasn't feeling all that well anymore and this round-about conversation was eating at his already frayed nerves, "Does it really matter! For anything but 'house pride' or something! And what was that spell?"

"Well… _Yes _Harry! It does, But you didn't _know_ so it's fine! I think…." She looked at her friend mischievously, "That spell, Harry, was a simple revealing charm, used mainly to find owners of lost items."

Harry glared through slightly glassy eyes. "What '_don't I know_'! Please, just that, not the history or etymology of it. And what reason did you have to learn that spell?"

"In case someone finds something, of course!" Laughing and scowling Hermione sighed, "Fine, It-"

Her words were interrupted with a harsh cough from her pale raven-haired friend beside her. And, as the smartest of her generation, she connected two seemingly unrelated events. And, as her friend's cough slowed before stopping and he turned to face her, waiting for her to continue Hermione Granger gasped and sputtered much like Harry had earlier. "The! You! Yesterday, that's why! Ron and I! I'm so sorry, Harry!"

"Calm down, 'Mione, it's not your fault, I just forgot my coat," Harry tried to appease his friend, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"Harry…" a sad taint filled her eyes before they hardened and she abruptly stood, hissing under her breath about 'stupid gingers' and 'homophobes' and pulling Harry, once more, to his feet and to depart the Hidden Room. The halls were empty, the stone warm with ancient magic seeped through from numerous students, faculty and people of the past millennia the sacred school had stood. Even the usually loud portraits seemed to be sombre to the youths approaching the infirmary.

* * *

Seated on a bed while Hermione was on an uncomfortable chair Harry waited while the stern Healer waved her wand in an intricate pattern, discerning what his 'foolish teenage self' had done now. Her face lips, much like their head of house, grew thinner as she continued. The tip of her wand was a calming blue, a few orange glows and sparks came as she murmured the chant under her breath. Neither of the students could see it, but Madam Pomfrey was staring at Harry's chest, or, more precisely, his lungs and trachea. The magic was showing inflammation of the alveoli and fluid throughout.

"Well Mr. Potter, I don't even want to know how you contracted Pneumonia so early in the season, but you have and you'll be staying here for at least the night." With that endearing statement the Healer left to collect, presumably, potions.

"Harry?" An answering grunt as he turned to face her rather than the space where Pomfrey had just recently vacated was the response. "Why do you have Dr-Ack!"

A hand was pressing against her mouth as Harry was leaning hard across the expanse between them, nearly off the bed except for his legs and waist, his torso suspended between them while his other arm held him aloft by it's anchor on the arm of Hermione's chair.

With a roll of her eyes Hermione pushed him back onto the bed, "Yes Mr. Seeker. Calm down. Why do you have a certain _Slytherin _Scarf, then?"

A flushed boy glared as he spun on the bed, crossing his legs and kicking them onto her lap he faced his friend with a petulant gaze. "Quid pro quo? I'll tell you, you tell me why our teacher flipped?" At the quick nodding of the bushy haired female the dark haired male's grin took on a slower, more sombre feel.

"Deal, Harry! It's not a really bad thing, she reacted a tad harshly."

"'A tad? 'Mione!'" he raised an eyebrow incredulously and scoffed at the eye-roll he received. "I was cold."

"… No. Really. I want to know!" laughing, Hermione leaned on the feet conspiratorially with gleaming eyes and a wide grin (worthy of Bellatrix if viewed out of context). "Come on!"

"Really!" chuckled an equally creepy looking Potter, copying her stance he leaned forward, "I was at Snuffle's cave, and I didn't even see him approach and-"

"Do you not have class, Ms. Granger?" interrupted a potions laden Healer. Scowling Hermione nodded and waved to her friend as she stood. "I expect you to return after classes," both blinked and looked at the healer as if she had turned into Snape in Neville's grandmother's clothing like the boggart back in third year. "Don't over do it, rushing out, or anything. Drink this." she thrust a fizzling navy potion with lime specks and pink bubbles. Sharing a 'look' Harry took the potion and swallowed quickly. It tasted like cinnamon and toothpaste with a fishy aftertaste and a viscosity like mud. It sent bubbles and a pleasant tingling throughout his mouth and throat while little sparks of limey-pink came from his nose and between his lips causing a slight giggle from Hermione. He was handed the other three she held, one a pepper-up while the other two were of a purple-red colour and seemed to be a very thin fluid as the liquid climbed the glass of the flasks. "It's a cough suppressant, and you will be taking more as soon as the cough returns, understand?"

"Yes, Madam," He gulped down both flasks of the suppressant, it was like swallowing butter-beer with a taste like how he imagined Sirius would've back when they first met at the cave, not at all pleasant. "So, I c'n go now?"

"For now." she smiled dotingly on the boy. His feet having been shoved off her lap as Hermione stood now leapt to the floor as he smiled up at the elderly matron, he flipped the scarf over a shoulder and waved, Hermione following suit, before the two took their leave of the spacious infirmary.

"Thank you! See you in a few hours!"

"Remember! As _soon_ as your last class ends!"

* * *

Their next class was charms with the Ravenclaw's and then lunch. After they had a double block of Defence Against the Dark Arts with Umbridge, as the perfect end to the perfect day. That meant that for the whole afternoon they would be reading their textbook, hearing snide racial slurs and comments, and, of course, watching the group of Snakes get preferential treatment... Draco getting preferential treatment. "Bloody hell, 'Mione!"

"What?" said girl slammed around as he sputtered and stopped, "did the potions not work? Can you breathe? I know-"

"No!" Harry was laughing, his worry near forgotten for a moment, "I'm fine, just..."

At his downcast eyes, Hermione blinked and, as the smartest witch of her generation, had a feeling it was about the scarf, "I doubt he'll say anything... He would have said something earlier, like at breakfast or in Transfiguration!"

"He was there?"

"Mhmm! He just looked over and kinda..." she looked around, other students had begun to exit their classes, "Nevermind; come on, we should get to class. Flitwick loves that whole 'interhouse unity' thing anyway."

Nodding, Harry smiled slowly, knowing the girl was most likely correct. It made sense, even if he had only seen 'maybe' glimpses of his (ex-?)Rival it made sense to think he would have been told to either give it back, unless it was joke that is, then he could be waiting, laughing-

No. Draco (not Malfoy, not when he acted considerate, not at all like Harry had thought even the week before) had been sincere, concerned even, yesterday. It hadn't been some insidious ploy then, so it wasn't now. Harry's smile faultered as the the Golden Trio (sans the rash ginger) headed toward Proffessor Flitwick's classroom, his logic didn't necessarily make any sense, but it was enough to abate his fears and insecurites for a while. Until lunch probably. Or at least until class started.

**

* * *

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**Posted on Dec. 24. 2010**

**Part deux! It has arrived, (though horribly late), and the first chapter has been, (now that I have had time and been of the opinion to do so), revamped and will hopefully flow better!**

**Joyeux Nöel!**


	3. Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble

A recap [In an awe-inspiring voice over]:

_-_ _"For now." she smiled dotingly on the boy. His feet having been shoved off her lap as Hermione stood now leapt to the floor as he smiled up at the elderly matron, he flipped the scarf over a shoulder and waved, Hermione following suit, before the two took their leave of the spacious infirmary._

"_Thank you! See you in a few hours!"_

"_Remember! As soon as your last class ends!" -_

_

* * *

_

**Scarves (Part three)**

Charms was (as always, it is run by the smartest of the Ravens after all) as usual; at first, no one seemed to notice the scarf, or Harry and Hermione (which is kind of hard, being a famous saviour and a bushy-haired best-friend of said saviour) at all. It was rather anti-climatic actually. Harry slinked into the filling room just behind Hermione who had her head held high and looked quite a bit like the scorned scion of the Malfoy house had back in first year. The room hadn't stopped, the world hadn't ended and there wasn't a reaction as though Voldemort had pranced through the class in a sparkly and glistening tutu of rainbows with a unicorn yet. Both breathed a sigh of relief neither realizing the other had held a similar concern of entering the room. Taking their usual seats a few rows in it was immediately apparent that the youngest male Weasley would not be sitting with the rest of the trio as he entered with Seamus and Dean (sending a decent glare toward them) and sitting at the furthest seats away from the teacher, and coincidentally, his best friends.

"You think he know that Seamus…?" Hermione whispered to Harry, both covering their very childish giggles and with a shake of his head Harry told Hermione that Ron was much too dense to realize the extent of Seamus' relationships with a few members of the red and gold house (and a few others in less eye attracting colours). "Now! about the Scarves..." whispered the bushy haired girl as their short teacher floated up to his desk and began to talk excitedly about something.

"Finally, 'Mione!"

An indignant huff and eye roll later had both smothering another bout of highly inappropriate giggles while a raised eyebrow and secret smile was directed at them from the part-goblin. "It's like… announcing that you're either for another house completely! And against your own, _in a way_!" she hissed at Harry's darkening eyes and the protest forming on his tongue, "back when the scarves were first made by some students as a term project they were used to define what house the wearer 'felt' they belonged in, and were often given later as gifts from the wearers intended, if they were from a different house… It was a tradition that never quite caught on…"

Harry was blinking slowly, looking torn between laughing and screaming. No wonder all the fuss last class… not that that warranted such a response or anything, but he understood it a little better. "So I basically just… what? Switched houses? Married him? Said I hate Gryffindor?" he drawled in a very good impression of a certain potions professor.

The whole class was turned toward them, some obviously perplexed at having heard what Harry had said, (or their direction, at least) as they noticed little iridescent bubbles floating around them and what with the laughter from Hermione and the shocked look of equal parts simmering rage and amusement and hidden contempt for the stupid dealings of a silly who-know-how-old 'tradition'. The bubbles were ranging in size of a fist to a pumpkin, each had a scarlet lion rampant and mid-roar while an emerald snake weaved around it, the out side seemed to vary more toward the purple-blue and yellow hues. The lions and snakes in other bubbles seemed to be in a myriad of poses other than that one, but all seemed to relay the mascots quite well, although none were fighting or of the badgers or birds. A smaller bubble drifted past Harry's nose, bursting as a corner touched the edge of his glasses. Blinking and turning to the teacher who was dancing quite merrily on his desk.

"What? I think we should pay more attention…" Harry pointedly looked at his friend who was slowly calming down, before she noticed the bubbles and started over again.

"Why congratulations, Mr. Potter! I do believe this is a cause for celebration, you mending ties to Slytherin is the first step to unity, my boy!"

Nodding slowly (as if the professor was unstable mentally) Harry smiled placatingly and nudged Hermione back to class. There was a slight 'pop' of noise as a few house elves entered with drinks and small pastries (lunch was right afterward, after all) and a few streamers came from the ceiling, no doubt due to their teacher.

"See, Harry, no one cares, not really!" before laughter bubbled out of the young woman and she hugged her friend (even with his 'Voldemort-worthy' glare). "It's just a scarf, not an announcement of a new alliance or marriage _anymore_, just a token of affection now a days! Not exactly common,"

"Really, 'Mione?" with an exaggerated huff they turned to the exited little part-goblin who was teaching the half of the class paying attention (Ravenclaws) and the half excitedly gossiping and having their own 'party' (Gryffindor).

* * *

There were bubbles with all kinds of things inside, the spell was quite simple, a bubble charm done with the intent of the image to be put within, and the simple command of animation after. Complications arose often and there were a few oddly misshapen ones, but all in all they were really well done, (over forty points were earned for each house present, and five for the 'Puff's since there was an 'epic battle against the Ravens and Badgers' displayed in a bright pink bubble that took up most of the room due to a combined effort and multiple spells done the Hermione, Harry and the entire Ravenclaw group). The bubbles spilled forth from the class and were escaping down the hall. Even after class there were little bubbles with scenes and figures all throughout the halls and spilling into the great hall as Lunch began. There was even a multitude of little bubbles in the shapes of scarves with the Gryffindor lion in a deep green hovering around Hermione conspicuously where as little blue and cool tones were surrounding Harry with many bright pink, gold, silver and green hearts dancing in each.

The lunch hall was a raucous affair that started out much like Charms had. The Gryffindor table was (surprising everyone) the calmest table there. Hermione and Harry were of the first to arrive being the Charms class closer than many, and sat near the middle of the table. They spoke of inconsequential nonsense and Harry fingered the scarf while Hermione told him a story her parents had sent her about one of their neighbours. As the hall filled Harry felt a few stares from Slytherin (Hermione checked, only they were looking at them) but not a sound was made as far as either knew about the scarf. It wasn't until nearly the whole of the Gryffindors had arrived that Hermione noticed what was wrong. They were on the receiving end of wary looks and glares (depending on who they were from, mainly Ron and Ginny) and there wasn't a single person sitting within a space that would fit two Goyle's on either side and a Crabbe on either side of Neville Longbottom (who, being Brave and Gryffindor-ish sat across from his friends) who was across from the two of them.

Noticing Hermione had stopped her story and was looking at their mutual friend and herb lover, he smiled and noticed (for the first time) that people had filled the hall. Neville (after a minute of staring and finally looking up) started and stuttered out: "H-hullo. Harry, Her-hermione."

"How's you're day, Nev?" Harry smiled, and started to eat. Neither Neville nor Harry pointed out the distinct lack of people, and Hermione just growled and glared at every lion who looked at them, eating and catting happily away while 'guarding' their group.

* * *

The trek to the Defence class consisted of a heated debate between the properties of a Womping Willow tree bred with a mandrake would cause and if it would be an effective defence mechanism for the school, (or anywhere really. It's screaming, thrashing and hates everything, really.) between Neville and Hermione. Harry was (again) lost in thought as he smile indulgently at his friends. He was worried about Ron and his sister. He had seen a few of their looks and had noticed the obvious avoidance of their house. It felt like second year, back when everyone thought he was the Heir, or back lasy year when they thought he entered his own name in the tournament. It was disturbing how fast they turned on him, and he thought it even worse his best friend (his first friend. Who was he kidding, the boy practically taught him all he could back when they were eleven on the train and into the school), they were seen as brothers in all but (ginger haired and freckled) blood. Not to mention he was the one who helped rescue him back in the summer before second year, and he helped with the Stone… and he believed in Sirius because Harry did.

"We need to talk,"

Interrupted and startled Harry jumped and turned to see the (blond prince) Slytherin who had caused the mess (liar, he caused it, he knew he had. He could've removed the offending scarf anytime) with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini on either side, mirroring (not that Harry could see) the stance and form he and his friends had taken also. Nodding and smiling (fakely) to the two Gryffindor, Harry walked away from the group and followed Malfoy (Draco) into an alcove away from all the students filing past.

"Just a question, just a yes or no, got it?" blinking owlishly at the commanding tone and raising an eyebrow to the blond Harry nodded; heart thumping and chest aching from his pneumonia, even with the potions he could feel the weight and pressure (he should be used to sickness by now, he had been before Hogwarts) and not feeling up to a lengthy diatribe or fight or even pleasant conversation with anyone (especially since he wasn't sure he would even fight back at the moment), he agreed.

"Do you want to keep the scarf?"

Whatever he had been expecting, _that_ was most certainly not even close (hoped for, but not expected), and Harry was shocked and not thinking and the only thing he could say (even if he had been told to only say a 'yes' or a 'no') was "What?"

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose and without saying a word Harry knew he would wait for the correct response. He started to ask 'why' and even a protest of 'borrowing it' or something, but it was silenced with a (very scary incarnation of his father's) look, and flushing (too pale still, to really be seen, especially in the dark) Harry just nodded.

Draco, in return, gave a short, sharp nod. Eyes never leaving his, quick-silver and emerald (slytherin colours, how perfect) Draco gave an almost predatory smile (his head of house would be pleased) and turned quickly to his own friends who were standing and making small-talk with Harry's (defending the merits of the hybrid Whomping Mandrake, no doubt) and, (tossed over his shoulder, like an after thought) replied in a silky tone that caused Harry's eyes to widen further and for Neville to step closer, Draco called: "Good," and, with a shared look with his friends, Harry had a floating feeling that things were only starting.

* * *

**Posted on Dec. 26. 2010**

**Part _drei_! **

**I hope this is fast enough! I had to laugh most of my Christmas morning, waking up to three reviews (and the fact it's now the third Chapter) and over 27 'alerts', I admit I now understand why people fish for reviews, and I agree, Harry in a Slytherin Scarf, especially with Draco's name on it, would be adorable!**

**So, I thank the few reviewers of this, _er year xP and those of last! And I hope everyone who has favourited and alerted enjoys along with all other anonymous readers and reviewers! _**

**_If you see ANY mistakes (or inconsistancy's), please let me know, ASAP!_**


	4. Interlude, perhaps?

I should apologize for the timing of this... But this was my Christmas fic! It actually kinda hurt to write after December 25... XD Not that many of you care; point is though, that it is very near to completion and I hate having left it for so long and tah-dah!

* * *

**Scarves (part Four)**

Was it any wonder that the defence class was exactly as the Gryffindors had perceived it to be?

The teacher was of a deplorable attitude (unless you had relations in high ministry positions) and had horrendous teaching abilities that, when coupled with the appearance of a squashed toad who rolled in highlighter pink vomit, had decided to turn her tirade against Harry and the Scarf. She spoke about it as thought it was the first wise decision he had ever made; that he 'was redeemable' for wearing a 'noble' article.

Umbridge had spoken for the first slice of class about how 'If Mr. Saviour can gain some intelligence, then perhaps there is hope for the rest of this school' and then proceeded to exclaim about how she had been completely unsurprised and, in fact, had guessed before that the young Potter would have a change of heart and decide to refute the claims he had made earlier that year and in previous years. Surprised, if not downright nauseous about the speech, most of the class had looked at her with a gaze similar to what would seen if they had all been told Dumbledore was a girl and was actually Voldemort's mother.

Though nearly everyone was now glancing at the topic's figurehead, namely Harry, and with calculating glances were wondering if she was right; after all, if you combined McGonagall's and this teacher's statements there was obvious doubt amongst the staff as to what was going on, and as most of everyone thought it was a simple wardrobe malfunction or a small rebellion against the (hideous) colours of Harry's previous scarf or just a change, no matter what they had formerly thought, the students were wondering whether or not Harry was hiding an insidious plot against the school (or something to that calibre) what with the newest stunt the Boy Who Lived was pulling.

But after she started in on him directly for the second time, he blinked, shocked to find his pale cheeks warm and, not that he or anyone other self-respecting male would ever admit to, a decidedly glassy look in his eyes that had nothing to do with being under the weather. He could feel the 'hate' and suspicion in his peers eyes as they stare at him. Hermione's hand found it's way onto his knee, patting softly. He swallowed and kept his eyes down to glare at the table and text resting on it as he fought back the tears; he didn't feel well, he was confused about Malfoy and he was done with the stupidity of his peers.

Pansy Parkinson raised a manicured hand and asked a question of Fudge's reign, effectively distracting the toad for a few minutes. And, when she somehow got back on the topic of Harry, a few snide remarks on Hermione made throughout; Goyle had asked what the minister had planned for the 'coming year, since elections were being rumoured'. Even with the surprise on the faces of the Gryffindors at one of the only two students that seemed like bricks in everything they tried speaking a sentence, one that required thought on top of that… The Toad took a few minutes to explain about the 'wonderful surprises in store for Wizardkind', another effective distraction.

As the class progressed both Hermione, Neville and the _entire _Slytherin side of class managed to distract and continue the topic of the ministry and it's affiliates, like the Prophet, to the point that Harry was nearly forgotten about; so far, even, that when she started to deduct points from the Golden Boy when he began coughing, or assign detention, hard to know since she was interrupted as Malfoy drawled about what they could do to help the minister this Spring.

To say, (when the class finally ended) that neither Harry or the two Lions who had caught on to the clever scheme had predicted _that _happening or had even thought anything similiar to the entire fifth year Snakes rallying in defense of one Lion was possible.

It was rather quite awe-inspiring. Flitwick, amongst other faculty for certain, would be please with the inter-house co-operation shown. More to the heart of the matter was the couple of Lions who were slowly joining into the fray.

It was a good thing, too, as Harry was given the time to think after the first few minutes of class. On the Lions and on the Snakes, and since he needed it to sort out the blond and what was right in front of him from that period, it was appreciated. By the end of the first class Harry hadn't even listened anymore.

**oOo**

Dinner, and consequently the trek from class to the Great Hall (and from the Great Hall to the Tower), had minor, not-noticed by the Boy-Who-Was-Far-Too-Deep-in-Thought, incidents of Snakes always being around and glaring, quite harshly, at anyone who even looked at Harry other than the two of them.

It was Neville who noticed that if he or Hermione moved too fast and their friend was left a few paces behind, then their 'shadows' would move a little closer, and retreat when Harry caught up, or they returned to him. Hermione shared a glance, and a look of comprehension, with Parkinson who gave a small, secretive smile, accompanied by a curt nod, just before she slipped ahead and away from the trio and into the Great Hall for dinner.

Hermione pulled Harry to same spot they had occupied for the past four and a half years, it was just off center and directly across from where Parkinson and Malfoy's group sat. Ron and Seamus were already seated next to her and Harry watched detachedly as Ron stood and dragged Seamus to another place at the table.

"Alright, Harry?" Neville asked, pushing him into a seat and sitting beside him. They all ignored as the other students in their grade moved from them, not even the first years who had crowded Harry and his friends every year prior to this one would sit near them.

Even with the bubble of space separating them from the rest of the Lion's, all three felt content, Harry and Neville were speaking; in short whispers from Harry and short bursts of exuberant stutter-free chatter from Neville, about gardening. All the work he'd done in the summers and before Hogwarts at Privet drive were good for a love of this one topic, and a wealth of personal experience and knowledge. While Hermione joined in occasionally, though more often, she was looking at how the entire hall was quite quiet. Neville and Harry were the only group talking, even quietly, at the Red table, the Ravens were acting normally, their loudest was someone exclaiming about a sentence-fragment or grammatical error in a textbook. Hufflepuff was dead silent, pale and staring at the Slytherins as though they were about to eat them from supper rather than the meal before them.

She wondered, like Harry had, if they had missed something earlier that day.

"Harry, eat some, please," she asked after she noticed he hadn't touched his plate, hadn't even dished up yet. She paused, there was something they were supposed to have done. She couldn't remember and dubbed it not important.

**OoO**

Harry was buried deep in the inner reaches of his mind; a dangerous place, he had learned, for him to be. It often led him to new discoveries that landed with him (and sometimes a friend) in grave peril and then with Madam Pomfrey for a while. Today, his thoughts were on why he had been civil, more pliant and…

He sighed, he didn't want to think of his actions to the boy who had been the bane of his existence, second only to Voldemort (and maybe Snape. Sometimes. Well, most of the time).

He had followed his friends to the Great hall with a blank mind, using mainly muscle memory and limited interactions with his two friends. Neville had been glued to his side ever since that row the other day and Harry was glad, the boy was interesting to talk with and smart, he also knew about Harry's up bringing, most of it anyway, since they had worked in the greenhouses before (he had been in detention, Neville had been 'playing').

And he was a good distraction when, as the trio entered the Hall, he brought up their own gardening endeavours back at the places they called home. Another good thing, to Harry, was that Neville and he were very similar, both could have been the prophesied child and both had lost their parents due to that fact, not to mention the herbology and charms interest among other things. Better yet, was that neither had a truly 'happy' childhood and they could relate to each other much easier than others.

So, back in the common room, Harry was left to his own devices as (for the first time that day) Hermione went to try and convince Ron that Harry was still Harry, where as Neville just had to go to the Greenhouse as he did often to help the dotting teacher and head of Hufflepuff. Harry wondered if Ron was angry about him _being _gay or the scarf. He was playing with the edges, twirling the immaculate ends into frays with his fingers. He didn't hear the knock on the portrait but he did hear the loud noise suddenly die off, albeit the moment it took to register.

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry heard his name called as if from the end of a pipe. He blinked from his thoughts and saw his head of house standing there, and oddly enough, with a slytherin. He was pretty sure it was Goyle, but he couldn't tell from his position. He stood and made his way to her, wary from her earlier actions.

"Mr. Potter…" She began as soon as the portrait shut, "I am sorry for my actions this morning. They were inappropri-"

Goyle snorted. Harry turned to him, McGonagall's mouth slipping open before it turned into the thin little line they were more familiar with. "Why are you here, uhm… Goyle?" Harry queried.

They unlikely trio continued their path down a corridor, McGonagall taking over the burden of speaking when neither boy made to, "He was outside the portrait when I arrived, speaking with Neville not a half hour ago."

"You've been waiting for me for-?"

"No, Mister Potter, not at all. I passed by and returned after hearing you did not attend to Madam Pomfrey." She spoke in her usual clipped tone, the only sign of her distress from the lilting of her Scottish brogue. She sent a 'look' at the Slytherin, "I do not expect your… forgiveness. I was surprised myself-" she paused, seemingly at a loss as to how to continue.

"Hermione explained, uhm. Some of it," Harry offered.

"No, I meant my own behaviour; that tradition has long since been abandoned, it was just the sight of you in, well, _that_." She cast him a wry smile, "I've never seen one of my Lions wear another houses colour. I've seen a Snake wear blue and a Hufflepuff wear all the colours, this though. This is a first."

"Draco says he's a Slytherin now."

Harry felt his warm face burst into fire with those words, his steps faltered and he looked to his stunned teacher. Goyle had continued walking as though nothing had happened, as though it wasn't Harry's rival of the school who had proclaimed him a Snake, he winced when his head of house blushed lightly. He was sure she knew how he got the scarf; he was mildly surprised that he didn't care really.

They made the rest of the way to the Hospital wing in silence, Goyle leading now. McGonagall brought up the rear and Harry was once more lost in his thoughts. He wasn't even aware of reaching their destination until the shrill cry of the warrior, well. Matron, had him back into the 'here and now'.

"I gave you until after your dinner, which I am quite aware that you did not eat, to join me; I only sent your Head as a last resort Mister Potter," she turned to Goyle, a bewildered look on her face, "You may leave Mister Goyle, unless you are ill?"

Harry tugged lightly on the fraying edges as he watched the confused look appear on the slytherins face, "Draco said-" he turned to Harry, "I _should _stay, Harry?"

Harry felt his eyes widen as his face darkened again, a flash of pity for the poor confused boy steered through him; he turned to Madam Pomfrey, eyes quickly skipping his amused head of house. She had either figured it out or was well on her way. From the sly look of the Medi-witch's face it appeared she too was wondering more on the true owner of the garment. "I'm just getting a potion, right?"

"Do you need anything else? How is the cough? Does the pressure in your chest feel the same? It should be gone mostly by morning," Pomfrey began casting spells at him, her wad swishing fast and her mouth muttering between her words. "No, no; Here," she passed him the same two potions from earlier, watching as he gulped them down. "I expect you here before classes _and _after, do you understand. I'm sure either Professor McGonagall or Mister Goyle here can get you here if you forget, again. I don't want this to get any worse and you do not want a relapse."

"I can do it!" Harry blurted, red faced. He coughed slightly, no where near the heaving coughs of earlier. He smiled and waved, leaving the white washed room and the two elder woman, with a Slytherin in tow just behind him.

* * *

This is part 4, enjoy :D


	5. A Babysitter

**Scarves (part Five)**

* * *

**oOo**

"You called me Harry," he looked to Goyle sharply as the progressed through the halls, the boy a few steps away. Easily within reach should he decide to attack. Or grab him. Harry had no idea what he was doing following him around, he recalled the large boy mention that 'Draco told him' presumably follow him, or something along those lines. Harry wasn't sure.

Goyle looked even more confused than he did in Transfiguration on a normal day, Harry smiled encouragingly, he had a feeling like being mean to the confused boy was like kicking a puppy for wanting to be pet. "'Cause you're a Snake now."

"Uhm, oh. Okay," Harry let his smile fall just a bit, even more confused than before. "Thanks?"

Nodding happily the boy began in the direction of the Gryffindor common room again, "Yepp! I'm Greg."

The walk was silent after that, both boys in their own world although Harry wasn't certain that Goyle, (_Greg _he reminded himself) wasn't just trying to keep the location his feet were carrying him straight and not get lost. The Fat Lady tutted at him and swung open as they neared, a Red faced Hermione exiting as the approached.

"Am I to like her, too?" Greg pointed to the bushy hair witch and smiling at her when Harry gave a jerky nod, Her face gave a hasty smile that, while obviously fake, was puzzled as she came toward them, having heard the slytherin, "She's smart."

Harry was still laughing when Hermione caught up to the boys, "Hullo Harry, Goyle."

"Herminny," Greg grinned, Harry just laughed harder while Hermione stared blankly at the boy with her eyebrow jerking _just _the slightest in surprise, "I'm Greg. Do have Harry?"

Harry felt Hermione's eyes slide over him and his laughter abruptly turned into a coughing fit, "What do you mean, uh _Gregory_?" She seemed to have come to the same 'don't hurt the puppy' conclusion as her voice was much like it had been when dealing with Crookshanks.

"Draco said to make sure he stayed inside," He looked around as if scared someone was listening, "So, I'm makin' sure you're gunna watch him."

"Like… '_babysit' _me?" Harry cried, his cheeks impossibly red after his switches between laughing, coughing and blushing. He wasn't sure he liked this anymore, _if he had at first _he added after a thought.

Goyle frowned and was shaking his head, "Pansy said that Gryffindors couldn't take care of themselves and needed help," he seemed so… _proud _of these facts he could recite.

"So… you're… _Protecting_? Harry? From his own _house_?" Hermione sounded more than a little scandalized as she stared up at the bulky Slytherin, her voice up several octaves.

The poor boys eyebrows knit together. He was thinking hard, and suddenly jumped a bit, "Blaise told Pansy that Harry was a target!"

Hermione winced at the phrasing of his words but smiled and patted the boy's arm kindly, "Thank you, I've got him, Gregory; it's a good job you've been doing," she paused and gave him a thoughtful look, debating something in her mind before she nodded in the direction of the stairs; "Why don't you go on down and finish your homework now, alright?"

As happy as he looked to be told he'd done well at his 'job'; he seemed almost depressed at the thought of homework. Or leaving. Harry didn't know which. "Do you want us to walk you down?"

Hermione started at Harry's offer, but quickly nodded in agreement. Goyle however shook his head, "I'm going to the kitchens, kay Harry? Herminny?"

With a wince at her name Hermione smiled and nodded, waving to him. Harry on the other hand frowned, "Of course?"

As the boy swaggered off down the halls, his shoulders puffed back in an 'intimidating' pose as he moved, the two Lions turned to each other, both with questions burning in their eyes. "He asked permission? From me?"

Hermione laughed, "Draco's looking out for you!" she squealed, immediately reigning herself in as she asked, much calmer "Does all of Slytherin know?"

He shrugged, muttering that he hadn't even known that he'd apparently been _given _one of Draco's own guards as they opened the Fat Lady with the password, shaking their heads at the slowly retreating slytherin, "Well, _Herminny, _I'm tired… So, I'll see you for some Breakky?"

"_Harry James Potter!" _she hissed as he laughed and ducked out of the way of her swat that was aimed at his arm, both smiling as they stood at the open portraits entrance, "G'Night Harry; watch, soon you'll have a whole guard waiting for you, too! Oh, down for eight sharp?" Harry nodded smiling.

"See you there!" A voice hollered from halfway down the hall, a few metres from them, really. Goyle stood there, waving, as he waited for another goodbye it seemed. They shared a chuckle and finished entering the portrait, watching as Goyle turned the corner, and left their sights.

Still in a good mood Harry ignored Ron and Seamus with their odd looks as he climbed into bed, too tired to care about clothing. His mind wandered about; to the fight with his first friend over something so _stupid _and to Neville, who would be back very soon from the green house, and to whatever just happened with Gregory Goyle, one half of the muscle of their slytherin year-mates, in the last hour.

He hadn't even realised he was tired until he'd stepped foot into the common room; now he thought he'd sleep through to the weekend.

**oOo**

The dorm was still and silent, the dark just beginning to lift when Harry crawled from his bed. There were four other beds in the dorm, each with their curtains closed and the clothing, books, parchment, and anything else that came into contact with some of the boys, spread all over the spaces in-between each. Beside Neville's bed there was a small pile of dirt, probably from his shoe laying next to the pile.

Harry took a few seconds, standing in the room of his home watching the area lighten for the coming day as he made notes of his home. He turned slowly back to face his own bed. It was much cleaner than the others, courtesy of his past 'training' in housekeeping from his relatives, he had set the scarf next to his pillow the night before, now it was folded at the foot, the covers there barely mussed. The floor around his bed impeccably clean. Glowing numbers from a tempus charm had the time appear before his eyes, just a few minutes before seven. He grinned and set a sonorous and alarm spell, the alarm to go off in just a few minutes, as he gathered his clothing and made it into the shower in precious few seconds before the room would wake.

**oOo**

"Herminny!" A voice shouted as the trio-minus-one opened the portrait, a familiar wince and a loud guffaw from someone still inside the common room greeted the slytherin while Harry merely waved with a stuttered good morning.

"Hullo Gregory," Hermione smiled tightly as she cast a look to Harry and his face with its glowing hue. "What are you doing here?"

The puzzled look on the slytherin's face sent Harry into muffled laughter while Hermione sighed, "Waiting for you guys, for food," he told them, in the same tone he had used whenever quoting one of the other slytherins. A proud look covering his confusion of the question.

"Oh, alright then. Should we go to the Hall, then?" she asked quickly, before Harry saw who was coming through the portrait they stood so close to still. It was too late as Ron moved between them and Goyle, he gave the slytherin a look neither would see as he laughed about something with his 'new' group, loudly mentioning Harry's name and babysitters. "Git," Hermione hissed while Goyle simultaneously asked if they were a 'threat'.

Harry ignored Ron as he swept past the three of them and down the hall, ignoring them and laughing with Seamus and Dean, to motion Hermione to lean in toward him as the three of them followed Ron's group to breakfast. When she had her ear place as close to his mouth as she could without them touching, he whispered just loud enough for her to catch the words about the blond snake: "I think this is going too far, I'm not even wearing the scarf today!"

Hermione moved back and checked his clothing, not a single bit of green was on his outfit. He just wore the bright scarlet tie against the black robes with their lion crest; there was nothing remotely 'slytherin' about the sight. It was fully gryffindor. "Well, maybe he doesn't care? It's not like it matters Harry. I mean, _really_, you accepted it, _wore _it, and-"

"Hermione! I got it, okay?" Harry's face was flushed and he had a hand clapped over the lower part of her face, they were stopped now just in front of the large doors leading into the great hall, "I didn't even _know when I wore it…"_ he muttered.

"Are you okay?" Goyle asked from his new place just behind Hermione, who jumped at his silent approach; Harry nodded along with Hermione. While the boy didn't _look_ like he agreed he accepted it and opened the door for them to enter the nearly full room.

"Uhm, Greg?" Harry asked as they entered, the sudden silence palpable in the hall as the silverware some people used were dropped and then not a breath was released, Harry's voice sounded rather too-loud for the room as Greg nodded as he stepped beside the gryffindors prone forms just past the entrance, out of the entry way. The door even _shut_ silently behind him. "Are you eating with us? At Gryffindor table?"

Puzzled he asked "_Should_ I?"

"No?" Hermione answered him. Almost immediately she wanted to take it back as a slightly hurt look flew across his face before the mask he usually wore replaced it. That blank look that had scared many younger children. Even some older.

"If you _want_ to, sure," Harry told him, motioning for him to go sit, wherever he wanted. Harry sent a sharp look to Hermione, who nodded back at him.

The bulky slytherin, while not fat like he was in second year, was heavily muscled now and still scary for the people who, unlike all the slytherins and Hermione and Harry, didn't know he was about as smart as some rocks, some very strong rocks. He made his way down to the gryffindor table, whether through wanting to sit with them or wanting to do his 'duty' in protecting Harry (and maybe Herminny, too) from the other lions and sat down in the middle, right in Ron's usual seat, facing his house. They ignored the not-so whispered jeers Ron gave as they sat a few metres from him and his group.

While still quiet the room was far from silent. The entire slytherin table was talking in their usual quiet tones while much of the ravenclaw and hufflepuff table had gotten over their shock and began their conversations, eating or reading again. The staff table was as loud as ever while there was absolute silence as Harry and Hermione sat beside Goyle, Harry decidedly not looking at the table with Draco and Hermione steadily looking around.

"Where're the kippers?" Goyle asked, looking at Harry and not the house staring at him in shock, fear or wonderment.

"I'll get them for you," Hermione smiled at him, reaching for his plate and over Harry's. "How many?"

"Eleven, please."

"… _Kay,_" Hermione nodded, hiding her surprise at the rather random seeming and large number, "You should have something else too, right Harry? It's important to eat a balanced meal."

"Er, right, 'Mione."

Gregory nodded, his face oddly serious. Hermione added some hash browns, scrambled eggs and an apple to his plate. "Thank you Herminny," he announced, loudly and very seriously, when she handed the piled plate back to him.

The use of his nickname for her seemed to not only unsettle half the table, but knock everyone one who was still sitting in a stupor back into movement and life.

Harry finally looked up, just in time it seemed, to meet the silver-grey eyes of Draco Malfoy with the smallest upturn of the corners of his mouth. Harry flushed and looked away, pulling a piece of toast toward him and eating it while watching Goyle shovel his food in, somehow, he did it neatly; if that was possible.

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**AN: The next chapter is nearly done, but I am going out of town for a week so it will be up in about 7-10 days. Thank you so much for all the reviews, alerts and favourites!**


	6. Atypical Classes

**Thank you to all the reviewers, since I have gotten back earlier than planned I'll post the first part I have written :D **

**Thank you so much for all the alerts and favourites, I was shocked to see almost 3K in hits! :D**

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**Scarves**

**oOo**

The first class of the day was potions, a class the gryffindors had shared with the same house they had always shared it with since Harry's first year. Greg walked Harry and Hermione into their usual seats, once again he took the seat usually occupied by Ron and within two minutes the entire group of students were present for the OWL level class. Neville said a quick hullo before sitting next to Hermione, though as far from Goyle as he could get staying in his seat, apparently still afraid of him.

The beginning of the session was like all others, except in that Snape didn't say a word to Harry. Not a single jibe or snark once; although Neville did get a few more barbs than usual. Every class began with a moment of silence before Snape entered abrubtly, the collection of homework if they had any, a lecture on a topic relating to the current part of the curriculum they were on and closed with the brewing of a potion that was derived from his speech, usually. There were times in which no potion was attempted and they were given assigned work or a longer lecture. This period the Homework had been collected and the lecture on first aid with potions completed and so they were now sitting there as they waited to be placed into their groups to work with to create the simple burn cream on the board, knowing from experience not to join into groups on their own.

After a near minute of still silence in which Snape glared around the room, he finally began to speak, rapid-fire and in that tone that screamed _'obey my every word. Or else,'_ that he used so often, "Goyle, Zabini; Crabbe, Finnigan; Weasley, Parkinson; Granger, Longbottom and do _try _not to ruin any cauldrons today; Malfoy, Potter; Thomas, Greengrass; Nott, Brown; Patil, Bulstrode, Dunbar; Now, begin. You have the rest of this period to complete your assignment and have it placed on my desk. Any who fail to do so," he cast a look that just dripped with disdain toward Neville, who flinched; a 'game' the two had played since year one and something that was very familiar to all, "Will receive detention on Saturday."

The only noise in the near silent room for the next few minutes were the scrapings of chairs as students moved and, to one student it seemed, the sound of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears as he sat beside Draco, who had stood at the same moment to gather their ingredients; a job usually referred to him as 'plebian' and one that he was above and so refused to do most days. He felt his heart was echoed around the room with every pulse and beat and Harry was compelled to turn to see if anyone else heard his resonating heart and were looking toward him as the culprit for the loud _banging_ of muscle against chest He was honestly surprised to only see Hermione looking at him; though her expression quickly doused his relief of no-one having heard his pounding heart when she winked knowingly and then looked to Neville who stood behind Draco in the line to gather the ingredients.

The next twenty minutes were a blur as the potions were mixed and brewed. No time for speaking or thinking while they worked meticulously against the threat of detention that hung over their fifth-year heads. In fact the only sounds were simple orders, such as 'Pass the strips of Willow Bark' and 'No, _crushed_, you git, not powdered!'. The first moment of respite from the flurry of movement over the simple brew was near the end, where it had to simmer uninterrupted and covered for nineteen minutes and twelve seconds, no more no less. Harry wanted to leave it for thirteen seconds, a childish feeling of 'What will happen?' as the reason.

That time for simmering was the reason for all the rush, seeing as only just under forty-five minutes of class had remained when Snape had finally given them the go-ahead to begin. This gave them less than a half hour to do all the work their potion needed, turning a simple and easy potion into a difficult, hurried one.

"Harry?" Draco asked, quietly so as not to attract Snape's wrath from his pacing, the man just feet away peering into Greengrass' cauldron without comment, his circuit looped around the room multiple times, it was another consistent part of Potions class, the intimidating presence as you brewed, watching for any slight error to criticize. The two had reached the point of simmering only a few minutes before, along with a few others in the class; there were only 26 minutes left in the period. The saving point of the recipe was that the only real difficult part was the timing of the simmering, nothing else had any specific requirements except ingredient preparation and the order to add them. Harry bit his lip but turned to face the blond, raising an eyebrow in question to him, one that was not needed as Draco continued as soon as Harry faced his way, "You met Goyle? Harmless, really."

"Uh, yeah," Harry whispered back when Snape had moved away, his route of pacing passed their table frequently. He hated how his voice betrayed him, showing that he was nervous, when all he wanted to do was not be; he had spoken to the slytherin enough he shouldn't be nervous! He cleared his throat, "He is."

"Good. Greg couldn't stop talking about you and 'Herminny'_,_ I believe he called her," Draco peered over at Harry from the corner of his eye, a smirk lifting as he did so. Harry felt his face flame from the look and the topic, Hermione wouldn't like that all of Slytherin house knew of Greg's name for her. They had to wait again as Snape paused to stare over the class from the front of the room, a scarce few meters from their lab desk.

"Mh, yeah, we couldn't, uh, _didn't _want to correct him," Harry told him. He checked the clock and noticed only a few minutes left before they were done.

"Hm," Draco had shifted, he was facing away now. Harry moved forward a bit, startled to see that he was smothering laughter. Harry hadn't seen Draco laugh, not like that anyway. Harry blushed and looked at the clock, it was within a minute of their 'removal from heat' time.

"Uhm, Dra-Malfoy," Harry coughed slightly, "the potion?"

"You _can_ call me Draco... _Harry_," the blonde quickly filled a sample of the potion while he spoke, cast an _Evanesco _on their cauldron and marked their names on the sample, "Here, give this to Professor Snape."

Hermione and Zabini's groups were done within the minute of Harry and Draco and all six student were promptly dismissed as each turned in a sample. Harry had sat back down to wait for Hermione and Neville, glad that they would be done soon and at the same time since they were paired together, he had watched his blond slytherin leave with his group and fought a pang as the three gryffindors exited the dungeon-esque classroom after them.

Harry trailed just behind Hermione and Neville, who were discussing why one plant worked better in the potion than another that had been listed under 'substitutions' on the side of the instructions fro some reason Harry couldn't fathom, and so ran into both of them when they stopped suddenly.

Draco and Greg were waiting outside for them, with a bright-eyed Zabini leaning on the wall just behind the two of them.

"Herminny! Harry!" the large slytherin called, ambling forward with wide arms. He gathered the three of them up, Neville too stunned to move and too close to get left out, and squeezed the breath out of the three lions. Harry winced, the large arms quickly retreated though and he breathed in happily. "That was a hard one, huh?"

"Oh, Gregory, hullo; the potion? It was, yes," Hermione gave a distorted laugh, shooting glances at the other two slytherins, her face pink from the use of the 'nickname' she had been given. Harry smiled, he had been right about the name of course. Neville, beside her, looked like he was going to be sick for one reason or another, she put her hand on his shoulder and pressed him forward, "Greg, this is Neville; Neville meet Gregory. He's Harry's uh, 'guard'."

She couldn't even say it with a straight face, Harry wrinkled his nose and watched a few pairs of student leave, quickly, not looking back at them, though they all turned the corner slowly as though listening in, which they probably were.

Harry glowered, eyes set down toward the floor from Hermione's statement, he flipped them to Neville as he stammered "Nice to meet you, G-greg."

"Are you a friend, too?" Greg asked, smiling widely. Hopefully. He certainly didn't look threatening and his appearance and tone seemed to put Neville at ease since he nodded slowly. "Kay, Nice ta meet'ya Neville!"

Harry had just met Draco's eyes when Hermione turned quickly, suddenly breaking their connection. "Why can't he pronounce _my _name!" she hissed very quietly and quickly.

"Because he likes you," Harry shrugged, much to Neville's amusement, who had heard the comment, and the dark-skinned teenager's against the wall since he was chuckling quietly and looking toward them with bright chocolate eyes. Hermione glared at him, protests on the tip of her tongue, thought Harry beat her to the words, "What're you," Harry gestured to the three snakes, even as another pair of students left, walking slowly to see what was going on. There was only a few minutes before the period would end and many more students would blow out of the room and into the hall they were half-way blocking, "all waiting for?"

Draco moved closer until he stood next to Greg and then pulled a slow grin, "Oh, just walking you to class is all."

Neville jumped back, a light flashing in his eyes as pieces clicked, "The scarf! Malfoy? Harry!" he cried, face scrunched in sudden thought. He was obviously confused about the affair and Harry winced as he took another step back, mouth open before he shook his head. " Sorry," he whispered, coming closer before anyone could react to his 'moment of comprehension'. "I should've guessed," he laughed, "Especially when Goyle, sorry Greg, sat with us this morning… It was obvious!"

"That's right, who else could it have been? I guess Gregory _could_ have been the owner," Hermione chuckled to herself. She turned to Zabini, "Hullo, then. I'm Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you." Hermione gestured at Harry and Neville, both chuckled and introduced themselves.

"'Morning, Hermione, and may I say that you have the most lovely eyes, you know," he told her with a wink; his voice had a touch of an italian accent, "Pleased to meet you Harry, Neville. I'm Blaise Zabini, I'll be taking second shift after Lunch, since Greg has a study group for a double free period with Vince and Nott so I thought I'd meet you all first."

"Then why did you wait up there?" Neville asked, Harry pushed them both to the side so he wasn't behind them any longer, the question was asked at the same time Greg said "Hullo Blaise,".

"Hi, Greg and I waited until you're reunion was done," He smiled, tapping Draco on the shoulder, "We should leave now before the rest of the students get out; we want to be on time, don't we? Not like you can walk him to any other class today, anyway."

Harry opened his mouth but Draco beat him to the punch, "I know Blaise. Ready, Harry?"

With a sigh he nodded, frustrated with the way things were going. He hated being treated like he was five, especially when he wasn't treated like this when he _was _five! He was tired, too. He apparently slept as well last night as he had thought he had. "Ready."

**oOo**

Greg walked just behind Neville, Hermione and Harry; he stayed quiet for the most part, a menacing look on his face otherwise he seemed happy with his swinging arms. He _was_ quite intimidating, it was something he had done for years and something he did well. He had been waiting for them after Charms to take them to lunch although he had decided to sit with 'Vincy' for the break since they were in the study group together.

Blaise took over after lunch, he spoke to Hermione once but then spent much of the time arguing on whether a higher or lower percentage of dissolved nitrogen content in the soil would work better for the growth of a Mimbletonium familial plant and whether more or less light would effect the poisonous properties of the roots.

Harry had not said more than a handful of words when needed since Draco and the slytherins had left them at charms, no longer in musing but in a bit of indignation and confusion. This was not a good combination when he combined it with his growing tiredness.

This continued through to their last class of the day, DADA with Umbridge. While it was the first class Harry had learned that slytherins would stand up for a non-slytherin it was also a waste of time; they did nothing but read boring pages that were probably outdated and useless. He knew there was a war coming, hell, _everyone _knew it. And yet nothing was getting done about it, not a thing.

Harry walked just ahead of Neville and Blaise, Hermione a step behind them as she listened eagerly to their arguments. Harry walked steadily forward, the first in the class and had to pause at a sudden _thud_.

"You are rather… early. Mister Potter. Is there a reason? Trying to _brown nose _through my class? Do you think you're better than your peers and don't _need_ to be on time, that you may arrive whenever you please? Hm?" The Madam Inquisitor herself stood in all her pink garments proudly at the foot of her desk, the text on the surface nearest her responsible for the noise that startled him.

Blaise had been the next to enter, he caught the speech and glared at the absurd woman. "I-" he was cut off as Hermione hissed and smacked his shoulder, Neville stood beside her, tight lipped and pale as he stared at the pink woman walking toward Harry, predatory glint and all. Hermione shook her head, 'It's not worth it,' she mouthed, 'It'll make it worse.'

"Detention, Potter. This afternoon," Umbridge gave a _'tut tut'_ noise, "Perhaps you will learn to keep those lies you love so much and your pathetic attempts at gaining merit to yourself from now on."

"I did _not _lie!" Harry snapped, he had had enough of this horrid treatment all year and he had had enough today. He knew it was stupid, reckless and gryffindorish to rise to Umbridge but he had to say something! He tossed his bag down by a desk near a window, plopped down into the seat and glared hard at the front of the room. He missed Draco, Parkinson, Crabbe and Greg's entrance as the second group of students into the room just minutes after his own, "I just walked in, I-I hadn't done-" he cut himself off. Too angry and stressed to form the words coherently to his thoughts. He took a breath, quietlytelling the room: "I did _nothing_ to earn a detention."

"You _deliberately_ came early to interrupt my Prep period!" she told him, ignoring the blank stares of all seven of the other students that were in the room that were sitting down around Harry in a crescent shape. "Detention, after class. You should learn to listen, boy."

Harry glared hard at her before turning all of his attention to his desk. He ignored the opening of the door that he hadn't noticed was closed, that he probably opened to come in and had shut again, as more students trickled in. He ignored the soft voice of Hermione as she sat behind him and the looks he recieved from Greg, Neville and Draco; looks that were half angry at the toad and half pity for him, perhaps a touch of sympathy in the pity, too. He was to remain after class, obviously; he thought, as Umbridge waltzed back up to her desk, "Get comfortable," she said, "You'll be here until Dinner."

Just like with potions class, the _eager_ students quickly filled their seats, the slytherins seemed to form in a protective shape around the eight students already present. It took only a few minutes for everyone to be there, only a few minutes of silence for it to feel as though nothing had happened.

He ignored their attempts at whispers. He was unrationally angry at himself for her attacks on him, at raising to her bait and at arguing against her.

Harry closed his eyes, he didn't know what they were being lectured on, he didn't care.

He let the sun rest on his face as his thoughts cart wheeled around, his mind flipped easily from his anger at Umbridge, himself and Draco for being treated either like a convict or a child; his thoughts on the war, the pointlessness of this class and the exhaustion he was feeling creeping about from a lack of sleep coupled with the stress of the past few months. Even Cedric made a few appearances n his thoughts, Harry had honestly thought he had put the Hufflepuff's death behind him during all his thoughts, conversations with Hedwig and even bits with Sirius at Grimmauld. Apparently he had not.

Harry almost stood with the rest of the class but had barely rose an inch when he recalled that he wouldn't be leaving with his friends or the slytherins. That he would be stuck with the Pink Toad until dinner. Umbridge was sitting at her desk, a feral look on her squat face that was, thankfully, turned down to her papers and not watching him, a quill quickly scratching on a thick sheet of parchment.

"Harry?" he knew that voice. Harry turned his head, looking at Draco for the first time that class it seemed, he quirked an eyebrow rather than ask after him, "I'll be outside when you're done. We have things to discuss; Don't we, _Harry_?"

Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly at his purring tone. Draco nodded back and, hesitantly, took a bit of a step forward into Harry's space before he sighed a little and left the room. He passed Hermione, Neville and Greg, Blaise and Parkinson at the door waiting for Draco. Hermione mouthed 'later' while the two boys waved and then it was just Harry.

_Just _Harry and Umbridge.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as his eyes lifted to meet those of the pink-toady woman. Ha hadn't even noticed he had closed them. She was still grinning. He shivered, sitting straighter. He thought to himself that no teacher can harm a student, then he remembered Snape's classes, even during _Moody's _there had been injuries… He winced he hadn't even thought of detentions. There couldn't be lasting damage. No worse then the Dursleys at any rate. He swallowed thickly. Perspiration collected under his fringe. His eyes darted to the door and then back to the cleared desk, his text had been put away what felt like hours ago.

"Well, well, Mister Celebrity-_Liar_. You will be writing lines this afternoon. No set number, just until dinnertime. If you haven't done," she paused, turning to face the board, she had her wand out and she waved it about, the chalk rose and began to write, "enough of them. Then you shall return after dinner to continue until curfew. Understand?" She turned, her large shape blocking the board, the mad glint in her eyes sent another shiver down Harry's spine. He nodded. "Good."

She produced a quill from her desk, sending it and a fresh roll of parchment over to him with a modified Accio charm. "You may begin, unless of course, you have something else to add?"

Harry pulled the oddly shaped quill and the Parchment, setting both onto his desk. He ignored her last question. He kept his head down as he tapped the nib on the paper a few times, it looked much like a Never-Out quill did, only this one wasn't shining with ink on the nib like they tended to do.

Harry looked up at her, about to ask when he saw the words on the board, _"I will Obey my Betters."_

The squat woman chuckled, "I thought not. Don't fret Potter, you won't be needing ink."

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**:D Thank you to all the readers, again!**


	7. Blood and Rest

**Scarves**

**oOo**

_I will Obey my betters._

Harry had barely finished the first line when the scratches appeared, and he gasped. He turned his face up to the toad-like woman, her eyes cold and hard as she grinned at him. She smirked, "Problem, Mister Potter?"

He bit his lip and turned his gaze down to his hand and the paper. Harry ignored her, beginning the next line, the same scrawl appeared beside the first on the paper, and his hand ached in protest, the lines repeated what he wrote, the five words appeared bright red on his skin as the edges turned a raw pink and the rest of the skin seemed paler. He wrote again.

He could ignore them, the woman and the aches. He _did _ignore them. It was nothing. He wrote more furiously with every letter, Umbitch couldn't do worse than the Dursley's had done, this hardly even touched the loneliness of his childhood!

His breath took on a laboured tone as he scribbled unfailingly, the words dripped onto the parchment form the quill. There were now deep gouges in his hand, fascinatingly though; no matter how messy his scrawl had become, no matter how illegible the words _were _becoming as the letters invariably grew and deformed, the marks on his hand stayed as 'neat' as the first sentence he had written. Harry continued writing, the knock on the door went unnoticed by him as he glared, no longer 'angrily' but determinedly, at the parchment; now dotted with the blood that dripped from his scratched hand, the letters bled freely now, more 'ink' stained the page with every letter as too much seemed to be going into the quill.

Harry glanced sharply and flinched as Umbridge moved past him, but the quill didn't stop. The sentence, the lines that had begun so neat and straight (for him at least), had now become rather distorted and quite illegible. There wasn't a blank piece of parchment left to fit a single letter, tiny drops of 'ink' were spread the bright red from the first lines had faded to a rusted colour as it dried and the newest were as vibrant as anything. Some lines even went vertically, he had no desire to join the toad for another night, nor did he want her to 'win'; he was stronger than she was. He flipped the page over, noting idly that the bloody words had begun to seep through the parchment.

"Dinner has begun and Mister Malfoy has deemed it necessary to be here until Potter is released," a drawl came from the door and it broke the trance Harry had fallen under. He paused, looking at the already half covered page. It was quite hard to distinguish which words were from the front side or the back. He looked at his hand; the fingers were clenched and seemed to be in a kind of spasm, there seemed to be a bit of… white? There, under the mess of blood. He blinked slowly, he didn't feel that great, but he could ignore that. Why was his hand moving like that? He blinked, feeling the pain and aching more acutely as he stretched the abused hand and ignored the quick protests the movement gave. At least the, no never mind. He glared slightly, almost dazedly at his twitching fingers. He was pretty sure they didn't normally do that. "According to my Slytherin he has been here for a few hours already."

"Weh-well…" Harry blinked at the tone of her voice, the usual prim tone was sounding terrified, as if… she was afraid of Snape? He nodded slightly, it wound make sense. Snape was a big guy, tall and definitely prone to anger. Umbridge was this tiny little toad in pink. Yes, she should be afraid of him.

He tuned the conversation out. There was room at the edge, there at the bottom, to fit another line. He wouldn't return here tomorrow. Harry bit back a chuckle, he technically wouldn't have to return for classes either… they weren't learning anything, anyway! As the words in the background gave way to a higher pitched voice that he recognized but dismissed; Harry continued to think as he wrote. He went over other letters and words, the quill working feverishly; he blinked back a creeping feeling of despair, he couldn't drop the class, even if he didn't think they were learning anything. That would mean she would win, and he didn't want that. No he had to win, had to beat her at her won game. His writing hand was twitching now, he dismissed the thought and looked at the bloody smear on his other hand, his white hand with the specs of white under the red letters. It almost looked pretty. The bitch wanted him to tell Dumbledore, McGonagall, anyone. She _wanted _him to drop the course-

Warmth was suddenly dropped over his neck, hot warmth. He turned his head slightly and the bright emerald eyes locked with sterling silver and the words came crashing back into his head. Snape was hissing something at Umbridge while Draco was growing pale as he stared at him. The warmth originated from the hand resting on his neck.

Harry bit his lip, ignoring the way the room seemed to be spinning behind the blonde, "Hullo?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed and his lips became a tight line, Harry felt a queasy feeling emerge from his navel; until the hand tightened and the feeling was replaced by a calm sensation. Huh. That was pretty weird too, he flexed his hand again: this twitching was annoying. Harry looked down at the paper. His bloodied hand rested at the corner, holding the parchment in place and looking, if the blood and scrawled letters were ignored, normal if more than a tad pale, the bright red seemed to make it glow. Harry smiled slightly at it before he looked down at the parchment, it was filled with blots and splashes of 'ink'. The edges curled tighter as the liquid was soaked in, the words were still barely legible at the top where the front had been nicely written, where it hadn't been pressed down so hard. Oddly enough the ones he'd been working on looked rather nice, too; though in a far different set of 'nice-ness'. They were written in thick lines, the letters almost neat. Harry looked on at the parchment in awe, he hadn't thought he'd done… _that. _He looked back at Draco, surprised that Snape and he were talking in low tones, the hand on his neck still tight. When had Snape moved behind him?

"Give me your hand, Potter." Snape held his own out, his wand in the other. The hand tightened when Harry hesitated, lifting his mangled hand hurt more than letting it lie. Why hadn't he noticed that? Probably the twitching, it took up a lot of thought to ignore it. As soon as his hand touched the professor's a muttered spell caused bright white cloth to wrap it tightly; bound it. He hissed and felt the edges of the spinning behind Draco blur into a grey that he really didn't like.

Draco's hand led him to stand, and then quickly saved him from falling. Harry blinked away confusion as he was led past a rope-bound Umbridge and through the halls. They had just past a hall when the trio encountered McGonagall. She looked rather grave Harry noted, she merely nodded and went past them into the room with the cats. Harry giggled slightly, madly, and wondered if she liked kittens.

The three of them entered the Infirmary moments later and within five minutes Harry was on a bed, potioned and struggling past the fog of blood-loss, confusion, Dreamless-Sleep, and Anti-Shock potion. He was a little put out, he'd preferred the other vision to this one. This one made everything blurry and stretched the light into wide star patterns Draco sat beside him, angrily arguing _with _Snape and McGonagall (when had she arrived? He tried to ask Draco but whatever came out sounded funny, almost sibilant, not that it mattered since no one turned to look at him), against Pomfrey. The last thing he saw was a bright white and purple blur as Dumbledore entered, Neville and Hermione just behind him, he assumed, from the black and brown and red. They were soon followed by the tall blonde forms of Malfoy's parents, and a hard black shape jumping next to Draco while a pale Lupin shot into the room from Pomfrey's office. Harry waved slightly and grinned, a sigh to his left and then his hand was being held down as he slipped into the welcome abyss of sleep.

**oOo**

Harry woke to, well not pain exactly, but severe discomfort. His body was sore and his hand felt like it had been chewed on by Ripper, Aunt Marge's blasted little beast. He didn't want to open his eyes, and probably would've fallen back asleep if he hadn't had to go to the bathroom so badly.

At least the room was pleasantly dark, the soft candle light making the stark white walls appear grey and golden in shadow and in light. He felt a tendril of disgust lift from his stomach and shook it away; he didn't care right now why the walls bothered him. He cared where the bathroom was and finding it in the blurry mess of a room.

He managed to get into the bathroom and finish his business before he began to worry about what he brain had just processed. First, the infirmary was full; he had stumbled past at least six beds, all with a body in them. Did he miss some big accident? He shook his head and moved to wash his hands and face, not really feeling tired after that trek. He looked confusedly at his hand, the bright white bandages and the pale arm; at least it explained why it hurt. He wetted the towel and wiped his face off and shrugged; that would have to do. He exited the room and nearly turned 'round and went right back in.

When he had gotten up the room was dark and quiet. Now it was bright and everyone was staring at him, or seemed to be.

Harry stood there, awkwardly shuffling from foot-to-foot; he wasn't about to attempt to make back to where he'd slept with no glasses _and_ witnesses. He needn't have worried, though, as the Healer was bustling toward him from one direction while a smaller black shape barreled toward him from the other.

He heard a "Padfoot get down!" just as he was greeted by two large paws on his chest. They were set lightly on him, considering how he was usually greeted.

He grinned and knelt down, rubbing both hands down the dog in greeting, he cleared his throat and laughed slightly when the dog rolled onto his back after licking his face, "I thought you weren't allowed at school, Paddy?"

He heard a muttered 'shouldn't be', but ignored it. He couldn't make out who was talking and so had no reason to care. He pointed to the direction of his bed and stood, "Lead on, I need my glasses."

"We can get them Mister Potter, I'll-"

He ignore the Healer and started walking, Sirius wouldn't let him walk into anyone. He'd proved this over the short summer they'd spent together when Fred or George had hidden his glasses to test a new candy they were trying to develop to enhance eyesight. Why they thought he would make a good test subject when he was practically blind he would never know. But, hey, if they succeeded and he had to eat one every twenty minutes to see normally and not need his glasses than he would be okay with that. Glasses were a right pain. He felt the dogs teeth sink into his shirt, not the one he'd put on that morning, and pull him away from what he assumed was a bed or something.

"Harry, he's really not trained for that," he heard Remus say, laughing softly as he did. Harry grinned and fought a yawn, feeling tired suddenly. He didn't like these yo-yo feelings, he'd prefer to stick with the 'wide-awake but sore' he'd felt in the loo. "When'd you teach him that, anyway?"

He reached his bed and felt the dog jump and sit on the bed, he hadn't been looking down or he'd have seen it too. He reached out and the nose nudged his hand into the thin frames. "Thanks Padfoot, and I didn't 'teach' him, I just tell him to do it."

He pulled the glasses on and, as the world shifted into focus, he looked around. Draco was on the bed closest to him, surprisingly, on the other side of the bed from where he stood. The one he stood next to was empty so he assumed Padfoot had claimed it. Hermione slept next to that one, and then there was Remus. On the other side of the room were the elder Malfoy's and Snape, all sitting regally on the beds looking like they'd been there the whole time and hadn't been asleep not ten minutes ago. He obviously looked more than a little confused as there were chuckles coming from Draco, his mother, Remus and Hermione. He scowled, "Why's everyone here?"

"Well," Madam Pomfrey tutted as she swept up to him and began casting diagnosing charms much to his displeasure. He hated when she didn't tell him what she was doing, regardless if he knew the drill by now. "Mister Malfoy is here because a Governor was required to fire that toad, don't look so shocked did you think anyone liked her? And his wife came with him, they're here because their son refused to leave, Remus is here as a de facto guardian for Miss Granger, who elected to take detention with Mister Malfoy rather than go to their dormitories. Remus and his dog are here for you, too. Professor Snape is simply stubborn."

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded. He patted Sirius' head and looked around, "So basically you couldn't kick them out, got it."

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the bed, "You should be asleep."

"She's right. You were deep into shock when we brought you in," Draco piped up and Harry frowned, shaking his head.

"What happened? I was writing lines last I remember."

The room was rather silent, so he looked to the Healer and when he saw her look away he glared half-heartedly and looked over to Draco as he climbed into the bed, shoving the dog over as he did so, "I know it was bad or none of you would be here, even after the stone and the tournament I woke up alone. No, Dumbledore was there," he huffed and glanced at Hermione as he spoke.

He opened his mouth to ask why she was crying when Draco started speaking, "She used an old device called a Blood Quill, it's used to sign really important documents, but she used it as a torture device. You carved that sentence down to your bone, you're lucky you were taken straight here or it would have scarred," Draco sighed, "You're not the first she's used it on, either. Not according to what McGonagall found out anyway. But you are the last."

He nodded, and laid down, "She's gone, then."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. One that sounded more defeated than anything. Harry rolled onto his stomach, fully prepared to ignore the room. This semester had been to uppy-downy for his tastes, and that was saying something. Padfoot shined and nudged his arms as he threw them over his head. First, he accepts a Slytherin scarf and offends half the school, while at the same time apparently starting to date a snake without his knowledge. Then there were the fights with Ron and everyone. And lastly there was Draco, being nice and normal and not gittish at all. This was too much and he was going to go to sleep and forget this year. Maybe sleep right until exams, barely pass and start anew after another summer with the Dursleys. Sounds great.

He screwed his eyes shut when he felt a wide tongue lick his ear. Somehow he was reminded of another thing he'd have to deal with when Draco called his name: Draco had said they had things to discuss. _Things. _And Harry wasn't sure he even wanted to.

Scratch that. Harry wanted to, he wanted more of that comfort again, he wanted more of the stupid over protective stupidness and he hated that he wanted it. He had bigger things to worry about, but did they matter? No. His mind wanted to worry about the blonde boy who was trying to garner his attention. He didn't notice when a potion was spelled into him, he only noticed when the dog was being moved away and he protested weakly by tossing an arm over the beast.

He slipped back into sleep feeling petulant and sad.

**oOo**

Harry shifted from dead to the world to wide awake in a matter of breaths. He opened his eyes and the sight that met him was a group of adults talking some distance away and his hand being held.

He blinked owlishly and looked over at Draco, unsurprised to see it was him who was holding his hand.

"Mornin'," he whispered. He didn't want the attention of the whole room like he'd gained earlier that morning. He felt better, the last of the potions out of his system. Harry wondered if the bandage could be removed off his hand, he hoped it could.

"Hullo. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded and felt the hand tighten around his own.

"That's good," he leaned down and brushed his lips across Harry's, smiling down at him as Harry's face flushed, "You'll be out of here as soon as they notice you're awake."

"Mm, kay," Harry nodded and looked to the group. He felt stupid for not telling anyone and staying in that room hurting his hand. He felt even stupider for ignoring everyone last night and for giving in to his pity-party attitude.

"I suppose I should ask what you're doing this Saturday."

Harry looked back at him, confused and not really wanting him to elaborate as the volume grew from the adults, was that barking in there too?

"Well, you'll be with me at Hogsmead."

He looked at the smug look on Draco's face and laughed, the other occupants of the room going silent. He was reminded of McGonagall and her shocked expression when she had first seen the green and silver scarf around his neck. Draco looked as put out as she had, just as bewildered. "I suppose then I won't have to think about it, will I?"

Draco grinned, "Nope, it's all planned already. Greg want's to ask _Herminny_, too," he winked.

The adults bustled over and Harry felt, for what seemed like the first time, as he laughed along with Draco, that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

**AN:**

****Well? How is it? I hope it was worth the wait. It's been a hectic time so I hope you'll all ignore the giant gap and just adore the tale. Again, I've no beat so any mistakes are my own and please, please point them out so I can fix them.

This is the final installment of Scarves, and it's been quite a time. I would like to thank everyone who stuck with the story and who reviewed.

I am marking this as 'complete', but may be adding an epilogue. I don't know if I should fix Ron and his terrible attitude. I love him some times, but he pisses me off a lot. Please leave any comments or queries in a review :)


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